


Another Day Closer

by msraven



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A little angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2320109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everyone enjoys being another year older. Clint's reasons are just more extreme than other's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Day Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [featheredschist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/featheredschist/gifts).



> Schisty - This is probably not the standard milestone birthday fic you were thinking of and a bit more angst snuck in than I originally intended. My beta does say that it has good, fluffy moments, so I hope you still enjoy it.
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

In the end, it's an accident. 

Clint has always avoided getting close to Phil because he felt too drawn to him, the temptation to break all of his personal rules too great. They are good friends—Clint keeping his desire for more carefully hidden—and he convinces himself that it was enough. Then Phil dies and Clint feels as if all his years of loneliness and yearning are threatening to drown him in sorrow. When the miracle of all miracles occurs, and it turns out that Phil is really alive, it feels wrong not to cherish every new moment they have together. 

Clint still tries to keep it to just friendship, but it's harder to keep his feelings hidden as he helps Phil through his physiotherapy and guides him through acclimating to living life in the Tower. The proper distance they've always kept between them disappears. Clint can't make himself pull away when Phil leans into his shoulder during movie night, whispering commentary, and then stays pressed against Clint for the rest of the night. Phil seems to enjoy their new closeness, unapologetically spending all his free time with Clint and finding endless reasons to touch him—a hand on his shoulder as Phil passes behind him in the kitchen, light fingers on his arm to get his attention, or sprawling out on the couch until their knees touch. Clint wonders if he's being courted, if he's being unfair and leading them down a painful road. 

The night of Bruce's birthday party, Clint watches with an envious heart as Tony throws an arm around Bruce after he blows out his candles and Bruce smiles at him like all of his dreams have already come true. The pair have been inseparable since after Manhattan and it's amazing to see how well two disparate personalities can come together to make something truly beautiful. They lean in for a kiss and Bruce whispers, "thank you" when they part. 

It's just the Avengers, Phil, Pepper, and Rhodey in attendance, so Clint's guard is down and he doesn't think to censor the longing in his eyes as he watches his two friends. Clint wishes he could have the kind of love and relationship that Bruce and Tony have found. When he tears his eyes away—his chest tight with emotion—it's to lock eyes with Phil. The fondness and hope in Phil's gaze makes Clint's breath catch in his throat and he is very glad for the sudden distraction of Tony instigating a food fight. 

Clint quickly finds himself dodging pieces of cake, streams of whipped cream, and other bits of food he doesn't even remember being part of dinner while throwing his own projectiles and laughing hard enough to make his sides ache. He naturally ends up back-to-back with Phil during the skirmish and Clint follows him easily when Phil pulls them into the relative safety of the kitchen. They're both still laughing and trying to catch their breaths when Clint looks up at Phil and everything stops. 

Phil has pieces of cake in his a hair, a streak of frosting along his forehead, and his cheeks are flushed from laughter. Clint can't look away. 

_Fuck, you're beautiful,_ Clint thinks. Except he must say it out loud because Phil sobers, his eyes darkening with desire. 

That's all the warning Clint gets and then Phil's mouth is over his, their bodies pressed together from their thighs up to their chests. Clint melts into the kiss, opening easily as Phil plunders his mouth and pushes him backward against the wall. His arms come around Phil, hands flattening against his shoulders to pull him closer and moaning as their hips line up. Clint's lungs begin to burn, but air is a secondary thought compared to his need for Phil to keep kissing him.

Eventually, the demand for oxygen wins out and Phil wrenches out of the kiss with a gasp. Clint realizes belatedly that Phil's hands are framing either side of his face, keeping him in his grasp as Phil rests their foreheads against each other. They're both breathing heavily, sharing air until Phil pulls back just far enough to look Clint in the eye. He feels as trapped by Phil's gaze as he is by his hands and Clint can't turn away even though he knows he's revealing too much—his hesitation, his desire, his love.

Phil closes his eyes and leans forward to kiss Clint again. This one is gentle, so full of longing and tenderness that it makes Clint's heart ache.

"Please," Phil pleads against his lips. 

Clint can pretend he doesn't understand or pretend to misunderstand that all Phil wants is one desire-fueled night. It would be the safest and the right thing to do. Yet as Phil pulls back once again, Clint can no longer deny them this time together, no matter how short-lived it is predestined to be.

"Yes," Clint answers, damning them both.

~^~

Clint wakes up the next morning with Phil a warm, solid weight at his back. He keeps his eyes closed, savoring the feeling for a moment, and tries to will himself to end it now before Phil gets in too deep. It's already too late for Clint—has been too late from the moment they met, if he's honest with himself.

The arms around him tighten and gentle lips press against the back of Clint's neck before Phil sighs, his breath ghosting against Clint's skin and sending a shiver down his spine.

"Whatever you're going to say in an attempt to convince me that last night was just sex, don't. If you're thinking of trying to make me believe you don't care about me, it won't work. You may have fooled me before, but there's no denying it now." Phil wraps his arms even tighter around Clint. "I don't know what has you so scared. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I _do_ know that I've never felt about anyone else like I feel about you. I won't ask for guarantees. What I'm asking for is a chance. Will you please give us that chance?"

Clint takes a deep breath and then another, delaying his response despite knowing he doesn't have it in him to deny Phil's earnest request. He can only hope that Phil will be able to forgive him when it comes to an end. 

"Okay," Clint finally says, turning around so he can give Phil a tentative smile. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Since you asked so nicely." Phil smiles widely—the corner of his eyes crinkling adorably—and Clint allows his own to grow in response. "So what did you have in mind for today? Unless you have to go into work?"

"I don't need to go in. Fury insists on keeping me on light duty, so I can take advantage of a day off."

"And what would you like to do on such a rare occassion?"

"Well... considering it's unlikely to happen again, I thought we could get cleaned up and have breakfast at that little cafe you like off Park. The one with the amazing French toast? Then we could roam around the Guggenheim for a few hours."

Clint hums in consideration before rolling them until he's looming over Phil. "Or we could get dirty before getting cleaned up, I could make you my version of French toast, and we could spend the day lounging on the couch and watching Dog Cops? Maybe get dirty again if we're up to it?"

"I could be convinced to get behind that plan. Maybe you could give me more details about the getting dirty portion?"

Clint smirks and lets his full weight rest on top of Phil, rolling his hips to remind him that neither of them had bothered to get dressed before falling asleep last night. "Why tell you when I can show you?"

~^~

The next three weeks pass in a happy blur with Clint working hard to forget the date that is quickly approaching. They spend countless hours in bed, exploring one another and finding the best ways they fit together. Clint, who'd taught himself to cook out of necessity, learns the meaning of the phrase "food is love" each time he sees Phil's genuine delight when Clint puts even the simplest meals in front of him. Phil seems intent in showing Clint aspects of his personality he'd never shared before—taking Clint to his favorite museums, unearthing his extensive comic book collection, and breaking up the marathon sessions of Dog Cops with screwball comedies that quickly leave Clint addicted to the sound of Phil's laughter.

It's at night, as Clint lays awake with Phil in his arms, that the guilt hits. Is he being unfair by not telling Phil truth? Would it be more or less painful for Phil to know or just have Clint go without warning? Clint had been left feeling hollow and lost, is he leading Phil to the same fate? Is he denying them the opportunity to say goodbye? Can Clint bear saying goodbye at all?

Clint sleeps less and less as the weeks wear on. Phil is concerned, but actively keeps himself from asking, which only adds to Clint's guilt and indecision. He is down to his last four days when Phil makes the decision for him by being his usual, amazing self.

"I was wondering if I could run an idea by you," Phil requests as they're sitting in the common kitchen working on separate stacks of paperwork. They've learned that staying in either of their suites proved too tempting to find different, more enjoyable uses of their time.

Clint hums absently and doesn't look up from the analyst reports in front of him. 

"Clint," Phil prods and Clint puts the papers down to give Phil his full attention. 

"Sorry. Not work related?"

"No. I..." Phil blushes and Clint grins. 

"Something we need to discuss upstairs? My suite or yours?"

"Oh! No, nothing like that. I wouldn't have brought it up down here at all if it were something new. I just..." Phil smiles nervously and takes a quick breath before continuing. "Your birthday's in a few days."

Clint's stomach drops and he feels all the blood drain from his face. Phil quickly reaches out to grip Clint's hand. 

"Wait. Don't panic. I know you don't like celebrating your birthday. The others know it's a milestone one though—Natasha ratted you out—so you'll probably have to endure at least cake. But I thought we could use the excuse to go away on a trip. I asked Pepper about that secluded island she uses to escape from Stark because I know you love the ocean. Is it... It's too early isn't it? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed this is something you'd—"

Clint shakes his head to stop the rest of Phil's apology. "Phil," he croaks out and has to swallow hard to find the rest of his voice. "I... You... There's something I need to tell you. Probably all of you."

"Do you want me to call the others?" 

Clint nods, but grabs Phil's forearm to keep him from getting up. He leans over to give Phil a shaky kiss. "You didn't do anything wrong. You... You're perfect."

The furrow of concern on Phil's brow only deepens and he gives Clint a tight hug before stepping away. Clint watches him go and fights the urge to flee. It's finally time for him to tell the whole truth.

~^~

"I'll be dead in four days."

Absolute silence follows his announcement and then Tony throws his head back with a laugh.

"Geez, Cupid. Can you be any more dramatic? You had me worried. Just because you're turning forty doesn't mean you're dying!"

Steve and Bruce look cautiously relieved, while Thor looks confused, and Natasha looks angry. Clint isn't brave enough to look at Phil.

"It's more than that, isn't it, Clint?" Phil asks quietly.

"You can choose to believe me or not, but I made a deal with a demon when I was ten that makes my life forfeit in four days."

Natasha swears creatively in Russian before coming over to sit next to Clint. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because there's nothing you could have done."

"You don't know that."

"Wait, what?" Tony cuts in. "You guys are serious? A demon?"

"Are demons not common on Midgard?" Thor asks.

"Not common, but we've dealt with them before," Phil answers, reaching out to place a hand on Clint's knee. Clint finally turns and Phil gives him an encouraging smile, supportive to the end. "Maybe you could tell us the whole story?"

"We'd already run away from the orphanage and stumbled upon Carson's circus. They didn't mind having us around until Barney got really sick. I heard Carson talking to one of the others about dropping us with the cops in the next town, that we didn't earn enough of our keep for them to deal with a sick kid. I went to get Barney so we could get out of there, but he wouldn't wake up. I panicked and prayed for help. That's when he showed up."

"The demon?"

"I didn't know what he was at the time, only that he could help us. He said I needed to do some growing up first and that he'd find me on the eve of my fortieth year. I'd kind of forgotten about it until…"

"The one in Budapest?" Natasha deduces correctly. "That's why he didn't kill you?"

"He said my life already belonged to another."

"I'm still not sure I believe demons exist."

"Tony," Bruce says patiently. "Shouldn't recent history tell you that magic does exist?"

"What can we do?" Steve asks Thor.

"Very little. If it is a pact made fairly, then there is no breaking it."

"No way. There are always loopholes. We just need more time. JARVIS! Get me everything SHIELD has on these demons."

Tony stands and wanders off in the direction of his lab muttering about forcefields and cursing magic. Bruce shrugs and gets up to follow him. "We'll do what we can."

"I will contact Asgard. Perhaps we could at least mediate an extension."

"I'm going to talk to the one from Budapest."

Steve gapes at Natasha. "SHIELD has a demon in holding?! Of course SHIELD has a demon in holding. I'll come with you."

Clint looks down at his hands, no longer able to hold Phil's gaze now that they're alone. Phil sighs, wrapping an around Clint's shoulders and pulling him gently, but firmly into his arms.

"Do you have any idea how angry I am at you, right now?"

Clint buries his face in Phil's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I should have stayed away."

"Not _that._ I'm angry that you didn't trust me with this. At least now I know why you pulled away after Budapest. I thought I'd been too overt by sitting vigil with you in Medical."

"What? No!" Clint lifts his head, shaking it vehemently. "You never did anything wrong. I didn't think it was fair to you, knowing my time was borrowed."

"Did you ever consider that twelve years together is better than a few weeks? Better than none at all?"

"That better to have loved and lost crap is total bullshit. Love makes everything hurt a million times worse."

"And did staying away make my death hurt any less?"

"No! But that was me. You... You didn't... You don't..."

"I don't?" 

Clint groans and scrubs a hand over his face. "I've really fucked everything up."

"You still have time to rally."

"I have four days, Phil."

"Don't give up. We may still figure out a way around this."

"You're no more an optimist than I am."

"No," Phil agrees. "But if there's any group that can pull a miracle out of their ass, it's the Avengers."

"And if they can't?"

"Then I'll be grateful for every second we have left."

~^~

Four days go by much faster than anyone would like. Both Clint and Phil barely sleep, each of them hesitant to waste a moment together. Natasha and Steve's interrogation of the demon goes nowhere and Asgard is hesitant to get involved in Midgard matters. Tony and Bruce use their time stocking the Tower with every possible demon repellant they can find referenced in old wive's tales and archaic spell books—from garlic to silver-laced curtains to some weird potion Pepper ships in from Mongolia and Iron Man sprays all over the building.

Clint appreciates everything they're trying to do, but he draws the line when Fury suggests positioning a SHIELD squad to the Tower. 

"No," Clint says firmly. "I won't be responsible for putting other people at risk. Not again."

"It's not the same thing and you know it. We've had several dozen agents already volunteer."

"You have? No. It doesn't matter. My life is no more important than theirs. I appreciate the thought—you have no idea how much—but I made the deal and have spent the past thirty years reaping the benefits. I... Let me meet my end on my terms."

Fury looks ready to argue, but is stopped by quiet words from Natasha. "This one isn't your call, Nick."

"Thank you, sir. For everything."

"It's been a pleasure to serve with you, Agent Barton," Fury says formally and holds out a hand for Clint to shake. When Clint takes it, he's pulled into a rough hug. "And an honor to call you a friend."

It takes Clint fifteen minutes to pull himself back together before he can calmly find each of the thirty-eight agents who had volunteered. Maria has tears in her eyes as she clings to Clint and then slips her mother's rosary into his palm. Jasper screams at him for twenty minutes while Woo's breath hitches and he walks away without a word. Every goodbye is different, but equally poignant, and Clint is drained by the time they make it back to the Tower. 

He sits quietly on the sofa with Phil's arm around his shoulders and Natasha in his arms as the other Avengers slowly assemble, walking somberly into the room. Clint looks at them all and can no longer find the words to say goodbye. 

"This is the worst birthday party ever," Tony mutters into the silence. 

Everyone's eyes widen in shock, but Clint hiccups and then he's laughing and can't stop. "Fuck, I love you guys."

Steve starts laughing with him first and then it's impossible for the others not to follow. Clint laughs until he has tears in his eyes, clinging tightly to Phil and Natasha, thinking that he can imagine no better way to go. 

It's amidst their laughter that the demon appears in a dramatic puff of smoke. 

Bruce growls, his skin turning alarmingly green, but it's Thor who flies across the room and grabs the demon by the throat. "Charlatan! I know of your kind. You are no demon, but an imp who only plays at magic."

They're all standing and staring at Thor, dumbfounded. The only sound in the room is Bruce's even breathing as he tries to keep the big guy at bay.

"Wait," Tony finally says. "Back up a bit. It's _not_ a demon? That explains how he got in."

"Yes, of course, Tony. That's exactly why spraying the Tower in camel urine didn't work." Steve shakes his head and turns back to Thor. "What's going on?"

Thor shakes the imp in his grip, who squeaks pathetically. "These creatures are a menace, preying on the weak with no intention or ability to hold up their end of the pact. I know of none of his kind capable of conjuring any true magic outside of theatrics like you just witnessed."

"Clint? Is this the thing you made a deal with?"

"Yeah, I think so. He seemed much, uh... taller when I was ten."

"What exactly do you think he did?" Phil asks. 

"He gave me my aim. He said that he'd give me something to keep us safe. I picked up my first bow the next morning, trying to scare the others away from Barn, and it was like I was meant to hold it. I just assumed..."

"Was it instantaneous? Did you hit the first thing you aimed for?"

"Well, no. But I wasn't actually trying to hurt anyone. If it wasn't him, then how else do you explain my aim and my eyes?"

"From what I've seen," Tony chimes in, "a lot of hard work and a winning roll of the genetic lottery."

"Your aim cannot be magic, my friend. My mother herself cleansed you of all magic after Loki's mischief and your aim has not wavered," Thor reminds him.

Clint's knees suddenly feel like jelly. "Are you saying that my life _isn't_ forfeit?"

"It is not."

"What about the demon from Budapest?" Steve asks. "All he would tell us is the same thing he told Clint. That his life already belonged to another."

"The pact they made was binding as long as Clint believed it to be real. It's why his kind prey on children who are more ready to believe in the impossible. Now that he knows the truth of it, this imp has no more claim on Clint's life than you have over his." Thor lets go and the creature immediately disappears from the room, without the smoke this time.

Clint sits heavily on the sofa while he tries not to hyperventilate. Phil kneels in front of him, practically glowing with happiness, and pulls him in for a kiss. They're both grinning like loons when they break apart, the others looking at them with equally wide smiles. 

"Happy Birthday, Clint," Natasha says, ruffling his hair fondly. "What do you want to do with the rest of your life?"

Clint knows he's not really supposed to answer, but there is no stopping the words that tumble from his lips. 

"I want to marry Phil."

~^~

Thirty years later, at a much more festive celebration, one of the newer junior agents looks at Clint and Phil in awe and asks how they managed to end up so happy. Clint considers telling her about all the years and weeks and days that led up to his fortieth birthday, but none of that feels as important as the ceremony a month later and the years of happiness that followed. He thinks about his unplanned proposal and grins.

"Well... In the end, it was an accident."

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
